


The Kiss

by queenaveline



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-02 23:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4077610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenaveline/pseuds/queenaveline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen has wanted to kiss the Inquisitor for a very, very long time...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> What was originally supposed to be a short little drabble got a tad away from me. Enjoy, and comments are always appreciated. Check me out on tumblr as well for more Dragon Age fun/hell: http://queen-aveline.tumblr.com/

 There are lots of times Cullen almost kissed her, lots of times that he wanted to, lots of times the opportunity presented itself and for one reason or another he turned away.  Stretching back farther than he would almost care to admit, he’d desired to know how her lips might feel, what her mouth might taste like, what little gasps and moans he could get out of her.

The first time he can ever remember wishing to do such a thing, wishing to do it in earnest, as more than just a passing thought, is when Haven is burning down around them both. As timing goes, it couldn’t be more inappropriate, and that’s most likely what stops him more than anything else. But in the heat of the moment, she’s giving him this _look_ and it’s disappointment and fear and steely determination with just a hint of longing underneath, and he knows he must be reflecting it right back at her. And sure, they’ve flirted a bit in their passing conversation, but Cullen doesn’t consider it to be any more than that—at least on her side—until that moment, and it would be simple for him to close the gap between them for one last parting kiss…but he doesn’t. He gives Valerie a nod, affirming her look, and runs into the mountains.

He is confident it is the right choice. Valerie doesn’t need something else to think about as she takes on an archdemon, doesn’t need a distraction of any sort, and if she were to have perished…That would have only made her passing that much more difficult.

No, Cullen decides, he made the right choice in abstaining, but now, the thought itself just _won’t_ leave him alone. It lingers in the back of his mind during war table meetings, it bubbles to the surface as he’s writing reports, it whirls his imagination into a frenzy as he stares up through the hole in his roof at night. And when he sees her, when they talk, she’s just that much more distracting. Sometimes he finds himself unable to tear his eyes off the way her lips dance and move as she talks, or the flush in her cheeks when she has to backpedal over her words, or the glint in her eyes as she comes up with some idea even more genius than the last. Occasionally, he’s even jealous of those she takes with her on her missions, those who get to see her that much more often, who he can tell she has become close with.

The second time he nearly kisses her, he has a less suitable reason for his hesitance.  The war table meeting was supposed to have started ten minutes ago, as he, Josephine and Leliana wait with bated breath for their leader, their _Inquisitor_ , to arrive. She’s held the title for little over a month, and he suspects she’s still taken aback when she hears it being used to address her.

The other advisors look over any papers they brought to look busy, preparing to not mention her lateness whenever she eventually strides in. But even Cullen’s patience is beginning to wear thin, and he ran out of papers he could pretend to read several minutes ago.

“Perhaps I should go search for her.” He states, already heading out of the room, and Josephine and Leliana provide little more than a nod as response.

Another ten or fifteen minutes pass, and Cullen is certain he has walked several miles around Skyhold searching for the woman. Valerie’s quarters were quiet and pristine, the undercroft empty, and Dorian, Varric, Cassandra, Vivienne, or Maker, even _Solas_ , hadn’t seen her in the past few hours.  Cullen resigned himself to half wandering through the castle, hoping he might just run into her by luck, or he would return to the meeting to find her already there. It wasn’t long before he realized that he was in an area of Skyhold that was entirely unfamiliar, and that getting back to the war room might be harder than he thought. He chided himself mentally for never giving himself a proper tour of the castle, though, to be fair, he had been a bit busy, and the damned place was _giant_.

Wandering into a large pillared room with several large murals from Maker knew what, he stopped to plan out his next move, when he heard a voice coming from one of the off-jointing rooms. It was a female voice for sure, and to hope it was the Inquisitor was wishful thinking, but it couldn’t hurt to check…

As he reached for the door handle, it was pulled from his grasp, and a certain red-haired mage barreled directly into him. And, despite the fact that Cullen was more than half a foot taller, and certainly much heavier, he still found himself stumbling backwards, Valerie with him. Several moments of attempting to grab on to one another for leverage followed, accompanied by nervous laughter at the whole situation and even _more_ laughter once both realized how close they were standing.

Valerie extricated herself from his arms, blushing madly. “Commander! Cullen—I, I’m so sorry, the meeting, I know, I hope I’m not too late, I just got so—”

“Valerie. It’s alright.” It took all Cullen had in him not to kiss her right then, with her flustered explanation and rosy cheeks, and those _eyes_ , so perfectly green staring up at him. Valerie shifted under his gaze, muttering something that sounded like “sorry.”

“What’s back there anyway?” Cullen asked. Valerie’s eyes lit up again, but her stuttering did not cease. “Oh, back there? It’s nothing, really, it’s not important. We should get going to that meeting, yes?”

“Is there someone back there?” He inquired, wondering at the voice he had heard. “No…why do you ask?” She frowned

“I thought I heard a voice, is all.”

“Oh,” Valerie shook her head vehemently. “Nope. No one back there. No voices, either. You should get your hearing checked.”

Cullen chuckled at that, but even more when he realized he had, in fact, heard voices. A voice. “Really, now? Or does our daring Inquisitor just talk to herself a bit too loudly?”

Valerie’s eyes had traveled to the floor, but when she looked up there was barely a trace of the stuttering mess she had been a second ago, instead sending him a wicked glance. “Never.”

Andraste preserve him, they were still standing quite close, and it would be very easy to just lean in and allow…

The moment lingered, and then as all moments do, passed as quickly as it had come, and Cullen returned to the war room as unsatisfied as ever.

~

The third time Cullen put off actually kissing the girl was after their chess game. It had been positively elating sitting there and just _talking_ to her, and though she put up a much better fight in their game than he might have expected, he still let her win just to avoid ruining the moment. He suspected she knew that, too, but he was thankful she didn’t say a word.

It was on their walk back through the gardens, Cullen headed back to his office and Valerie headed back to her quarters, that the thought crossed Cullen’s mind again. They were standing in the middle of the main hall, yes, and were all but surrounded by people, but the world apart around him was all beginning to blur, all apart from this woman, this _mage_ , that stood out in such sharp contrast that Cullen wondered if the lack of lyrium was finally taking his mind. She was grinning up at him like a sphinx, and he wanted to, oh, he wanted to, and she looked like she was thinking the same.

A bell rang the time. The world returned to focus. Cullen returned to his senses. Valerie scampered off with a hurried goodbye. And Cullen decided, once again, that it was for the better. He was most likely misreading this entire thing. She had treated him as a friend, no more, right? Was that nervousness merely how Valerie was, or did it have to do with him? Had he been looking into this way too much? Cullen reassured himself that was the case, and until he knew for certain she felt the same way, it was better to refrain. He told himself that so many times, he nearly started to believe it.

~

After that, it seemed like opportunities were jumping out at him from every corner.

After a war council meeting, he could simply take her aside and kiss her.

In his office, talking, he could finally step forward to close the gap that was always there.

In the tavern, the rare occasion he actually took a night off, as he walked her back to her quarters.

When she arrive back from a mission.

When she left for a mission.

Every time he saw her, the universe seemed to taunt him just that much more.

His near breaking point came one evening when Dorian cornered him in his office.

“Hello, Commander. Say, you wouldn’t happen to know where our dear Inquisitor is, would you now?” Cullen did not fail to notice the way the mage’s eyes flicked upwards towards his bedroom, but did not remark upon it.

“No, I don’t. Is something the matter?”

“Besides the fact that this office looks like its run by an alcoholic and she was supposed to meet me for drinks twenty minutes ago? No, nothing really.”

Cullen frowned at his desk, which was indeed covered in various mugs and empty wine bottles. It wasn’t that he had drunken them all at once, it was more that he drank them and then never bothered to actually get _rid_ of them. 

“Well, I apologize, Dorian. I haven’t seen her for some time. Now, if you’ll excuse—”

“You know,” Dorian began, as he started plucking bottles off the desk. “With all the cleaning I do around here, I should really be hired as the Inquisition’s maid. Now, since Valerie is eluding me entirely, and I know she’ll crawl out of the woodwork for you, go find her, and I’ll make some attempt at tidying up this pigsty of an office. Alright?”

Cullen stared blankly, somewhere between shocked and confused.

“Well, _Commander_?” Cullen stood and headed for the door, baffled that for some reason he was following _Dorian’s_ orders and not the other way around.

After checking Valerie’s quarters, which were not only empty, but untouched apart from the unmade bed and the meticulously organized desk stacked with Inquisition reports, he remembered the room with the pillars, and attempted to retrace his steps there.

Cullen was not appointed Commander because he was dull, and therefore arrived at his destination easily. Heading towards the same door Valerie had once come barreling out of, he opened it gently, calling her name.

“Valerie?”

Upon opening the door, Cullen found that it wasn’t, in fact, nothing, but a thin, arching room covered in spider webs and books. The books, he found as he walked down the hall, were incredibly old, and someone had taken care to clean the webs and dust from all but the highest shelves. He advanced further into the strange room, which ended in an alcove with even more books, a desk with a multitude of candles nearly burnt to the wick, an enormous tome resting on a stand, and books, papers, ink, and quills scattered mindlessly across the desk. And laying atop that very setup, in a high-backed, ancient chair, was Valerie herself, her head resting gently upon her crossed arms in sleep.

However rude it might have been, Cullen couldn’t help but stare.  Even with her red hair splayed out across her face, Cullen could still make out the peaceful expression it wore, free of any cares or worries, dreaming as contentedly as one could. Cullen did not think he had seen her look so young, so relaxed, excepting the moment he had first laid eyes on her, chained up on the dungeon floor.

_We’ve come quite a ways from that, haven’t we?_

Cullen allowed himself just one more moment of respite, before crouching down to gently shake her shoulder with a hand.

“Valerie?”  It did not take much to wake her, and she smiled dazedly at him for a moment before she seemed to comprehend what has happening.

“Oh, Cullen!” She shot up into an upright position, frantically running her hand through her hair, and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.  “What are you doing here?”

“Dorian sent me. It appears you’re missing your date with him.”

“Oh, shit. I mean, woops—sorry.” She shook her head, and Cullen chuckled. “What are you doing with all this?” He asked.

“Oh, this?” She looked around at the room as if it were her first time seeing it. “This is just…something to keep busy. Not that I’m _not_ busy, it’s just to keep, um. It’s some research. Just to pass the time.” She appeared so flustered Cullen had to fight to keep from laughing.

“I see. Blackwall has his woodcarving, and you have your mad experimenting.”  Valerie grinned at that, and the flustering ended, and the smirking took its place.

“Please. Don’t pretend that Dorian isn’t helping.”

“Ah, of course.” Cullen stood, and Valerie followed suit, a hand resting on the back of her chair.

“I suppose…I don’t know.  Life in the circle wasn’t perfect by any means, and I don’t miss it or anything, but…I was never really a fighter. Or a leader. It was just me and my books and my crazy theories…and…I just needed some remnant of who I was before…all this.” It looked as if it almost physically pained her to speak the words, and Valerie looked everywhere in the room but at Cullen when she spoke. But eventually, when she did catch his eyes, it was not the desire to kiss her Cullen felt, but the desire to wrap her up in his arms for all eternity, to ease every pain and worry she had ever felt, to share every burden, to cure every ill. And something—instinct, maybe—took over, and Cullen did something even he did not expect.

He tore his gaze away from those sad, green, puppy eyes, took a step forward, and slid his arms around her waist, pulling her towards him as his arms enfolded her. She stiffened for just a moment, before relaxing, and reaching up to link her hands behind his head.

They stood there together for what could have been hours or just a blink of an eye, her head resting against his chest, his thumb tracing circles on her lower back, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. And, Maker, Cullen couldn’t imagine heaven being anything less than this; Valerie wrapped up in his arms, his head resting atop hers so that he could smell the sweet scent of her shampoo, her hands cool against his neck.

Eventually, someone pulled away, and when their eyes met again neither could think of a thing to say, so only nervous laughter filled the dusty quiet of the room.  Cullen blew out the candles, and Valerie shut the door.

~

Cullen had long ago accepted that where there was heaven, hell must follow, and so the next month and a half was a struggle everyone felt. Even with the victory at Adamant, excepting the death of hundreds, including the Warden Stroud, a cloud hung over Cullen, if not the Inquisition as a whole.

The headaches and nightmares and general _shitiness_ he usually felt from the lack of lyrium had eased off since arriving at Skyhold, but now returned with all its malicious vigor. He was glad Valerie was way off in the Wastes or the Western Approach or wherever she was, because he did not think he could bear to have her see him like this. Of course, Cassandra, this one time, wasn’t away with the Inquisitor, so therefore was free to pull him away and ask after his health after the second war council meeting he had to step out of. His soldiers gave him an even wider berth than usual. And all of that was nothing compared to the nightmares.

Naturally, the old standbys were always around. The Fereldan Circle Tower. Kirkwall. He would awake sweating and panting, with only the cool air filtering in from his roof grounding him to reality. But there were brand new horrors tormenting him as well.  Instead of his family, or his friends that the demons normally used to torment him, more often than not it was Valerie. And Cullen would be damned if he didn’t relive the horror of that moment when the bridge collapsed and Valerie fell into the fade at _least_ once a week.

And somewhere along the way, Cullen had mentally talked himself out of that whole deal. He was reminded of their positions. Of how inappropriate a relationship like that could be.  He was warned of the way losing her might break him. He assumed that Valerie knew all this too, so any reciprocation she had shown had all been in the interest of a fling. And unlike the other times he tried to quell his feelings for Valerie, this time, it worked.

Did he still care for her immensely? Yes. Did he think of her every single night, praying to the Maker to _please_ , just keep her safe? More than ever. But did he think he would ever, in a million lifetimes get to be with her? No.

 Then one day the storms cleared, his funk was broken, and Cullen woke up for the first time in what felt like ages feeling just fine. He stepped into his office, and the first report he received was that the Inquisitor had returned. Immediately, he considered just staying in bed for the remainder of the day.  It was blind coincidence, and saying anything else would be foolish, but it only added proof to Cullen’s lasting concept that the universe held a personal vendetta against him.

He’d be lying if he said he actively avoided her for the next few days, but it wouldn’t be telling the truth if he didn’t bypass seeing her when he could.  Frankly, he wasn’t even sure if it was helping things…but Cullen figured seeing her might be more difficult. Or would it be? What did he know anymore? 

It was a sunny afternoon and the first time in what felt like forever that Cullen actually felt somewhat pleasant when Valerie burst into his office, her hands clenched before she hid them behind her back. She bounced up on the balls of her feet, and Cullen set down his quill to look at her.

“Inquisitor?”

“Commander.” She paused again. “Is there anything I need to know?” She ventured. Cullen thought for a moment, before shaking his head no. “Not that I can recall, no.”

Valerie nodded, and shuffled some more.  She was so obviously off put that it was making Cullen slightly uncomfortable, and he was about to ask what was the matter when Valerie finally spoke.

“I thought we could talk. Alone?” She questioned, and Cullen had a feeling something either incredibly good or seriously bad was about to happen. His anxiety went through the roof. “Alone? I mean, of course.” He stumbled.

They walked in silence for several minutes, both gathering the courage to start.

_Valerie, I…_

_What’s this about, Inquisitor?_

_Look, Valerie, I think…_

Cullen tried a million beginnings in his head, and none stuck. He was beginning to panic at what news Valerie could possibly be giving him, though he suspected it was less like news and more like a confession. Every time he tried to look over at her, she glanced away, or kept her head down, all the way to the other side of the castle. Finally, he could take no more.

“It’s a nice day.” He remarked, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “What?” Valerie finally turned towards him, and Maker, would he ever get over how beautiful she was?

“It’s…there was something you wished to discuss?” Valerie exhaled and finally began.

“Cullen, I care for you and—” She sighed, frustrated, but her eyes were soft, and hopeful, and Cullen thought that maybe he was wrong, and maybe this did mean something to her, and that gave him more excitement than he could remember having in a long time.

“What’s wrong?”

“You left the templars, but do you trust mages? Could you think of me as anything more?”

Cullen was being bombarded by every emotion in the book. Relief, that he had been wrong, and that this whole _thing_ had meant something to her. Hope, at what might come next. Joy, that maybe he could have just this one piece of happiness. Even solidarity. _Oh, Valerie, I know, I get it, everything you’re trying to tell me._

“I could. I mean, I do…think of you. And what I might say in this sort of situation.” Oh, had he thought about it. Of course, those thoughts were all out the window now. He rubbed a hand over his face, stepping over to the edge of the battlements. Valerie followed, her eyes so bright, so damn _hopeful_. “What’s stopping you?”

“You’re the Inquisitor. We’re at war. And you…” _You’re a mage and I’m scared for what could happen to the both of us._ “I didn’t think it was possible.” He stepped closer, as close as they had been in her secret study that day. _You’re a mage and the Inquisitor and I’m terrified, but I don’t care. I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care._

“And yet I’m still here.”

“So you are…It seems too much to ask.” Closer and closer, and Andraste preserve him, he was _finally_ going to do it, just a few more inches. He settled his hands on her hips.

“But I want to…”  He leaned in, and closed his eyes and felt the whole world sigh around him, and everything fell away—

“Commander!” His eyes snapped open, and Valerie was looking everywhere _but_ him. He sighed as he shook his head, pulling away from Valerie and turning to see what _positively daft_ scout of his decided to interrupt a moment he had dreamed of for months on end, and they were no doubt going to be scrubbing floors and shining his boots and digging latrines and _every Maker forsaken awful task he could come up with_. 

“You wanted a copy of Sister Leliana’s report.”

“What?” He growled, stepping towards the scout, John or Jim or something.

“Sister Leliana’s report. You wanted it delivered ‘without delay.’”

Cullen did not trust himself to speak without unleashing the Maker’s holy terror upon this scout, and what would ruin the mood even _more_ than that? Instead, he opted to give the scout the most steely, angry glare he could come up with, stepping closer all the while. He watched the scouts eyes flicker from him, to Valerie, back to him.

“Or…to your office…right…” He backed away slowly, Cullen exhaling to calm himself down, barely able to even think through what he was going to do next. He knew what he _wanted_ to do.

Maker be damned, he owed it to himself, to both of them.

“If you need to—” Valerie began, before uttering a delicious little gasp as finally, at last, he kissed her.

It was just as he dreamed, it was _nothing_ like he dreamed, but most importantly it was happening. Her lips were still under his for a moment in surprise, but quickly softened. And then, she kissed him back.

His hand was on her face, and hers came to rest on his arm, and her lips were so _soft_ and gentle and moved with his in all the intricate ways that the imagination could never truly replicate. He pressed into her, wanting, _needing_ , more, and she opened her mouth more, the open kisses somewhere between burning and searing.

At last, he reluctantly pulled away, a split second before realizing that perhaps he’d been a bit too forward, and this wasn’t what she wanted at all, but Andraste’s flaming knickers, a kiss like _that._

“I’m sorry…that was…um…really nice.”  For whatever reason, ‘really nice’ was the only adjective he could come up with to describe that jaw-dropping, awe-inspiring, _incredible_ kiss.

Valerie was smirking more than ever, her eyes promising endless more kisses just like that.

“That was what I wanted.” She stated, and that was all Cullen ever needed to hear.

“Oh. Good.” He responded with a smirk of his own, and leaned in to kiss her again. And after that, he was quite sure, Cullen didn’t want to kiss another woman ever again.

~

“Oh, please. That time in the study, when you found me asleep? You were _not_ going to kiss me.”

“I was! How would you know?” Valerie shoved his arm slightly, pushing herself up on an elbow to lean over him. “Because I know you.”

“Do you now?” He tried to sound coy, but he knew he was smiling too wide for it ever to work.

“I do. I know you’re going to kiss me right now.” Cullen snapped up to flip their positions, pinning Valerie beneath him as she giggled.

“I’m going to do much more than kiss you,” He growled against her neck.

And he meant it, too. He would kiss her, and protect her, and help her and support her and _love_ her until the end of his days and on.


End file.
